Brahms's Possession
by AkkadianPenumbra
Summary: Greta's struggle to come to terms with the fact Brahms is alive and not a spirit living inside a doll. Now that he has her, he will never let her leave. Note: I do not own the characters and i'm not profiting from this story in any way.
1. Chapter 1

"Greta…come back" Stated Brahms in the shrill child-like voice. My back was pressed against a trap door in the dark, musty crawlspace between the walls. Brahms stood over an unconscious Malcolm. His eyes seeming to stare into mine from behind the porcelain mask with a predators gaze. Brahms was still clutching the fire poker. I was frightened, I could barely breathe. "I'll be good, I will!" His voice cracking, deepening into that of a man. Brahms slowly lowered himself into a crouch and began to crawl towards me. I let out a cry and turned to try the doorknob once more. "Get back here." Growled Brahms, his voice having completely lost the child-like quality from before. "Don't leave me!"

His voice having now took a dangerous tone. He started to crawl towards me once more. I knew there was no where I could go. There was no escape, and I thought of Malcolm and how I couldn't leave him. Surely, Brahms would kill him if I left and I couldn't let that happen. "Please don't hurt me Brahms, I won't leave you. But you have to promise to be a good boy. Can you promise? Brahms was beside me now. I felt the heat from his body, the musky scent of his sweat. The porcelain face merely inches from mine. He raised his head slightly to inhale the scent of my hair. His slowly brought his hand and caressed my cheek with such tenderness. A lovers touch.

His eyes, once again peered into mine. While he raised his hand higher to touch my hair. "Brahms!" I exclaim in a harsh voice, which caused him to jump back as though he'd been shocked. "You didn't promise." He lowered his head like a child being reprimanded and answered in a timid voice that I could barely hear. "I promise, Greta." "Good, thank you for promising me Brahms." I responded, still having an authoritative tone. He nodded. I slowly came to my feet, as did he, until we were facing each other. His height was impressive. I felt so small standing next to him. I couldn't help but notice the sweat gleaming off the dark hair on his chest when the rays of moonlight shown through the cracks in the door. Facial hair protruding around the bottom of the mask. Dark curly hair framing around the porcelain child's face. He was so alluring.

"It's getting late Brahms, it's time for bed." I stated. Brahms kept his head down as I started to walk past him towards the place Malcolm lay. I ducked under pipes, nearly hitting my head. Brahms remained in the same place, never moving."Brahms!" I said in a biting tone. His head snapped toward me. "You know the rules." He nodded slowly and began to walk towards me. "Brahms, we can't leave Malcolm here." I said. He looked at me as if he wanted to ask why, but he knew I was right. Brahms bent to lift Malcolm over his shoulder and stepped ahead of me to lead the way back into the house. The whole time my mind was racing. Will he keep his promise not to hurt me? A part of me believed he wouldn't, because he certainly had every opportunity over the days I've been alone here.

We walked into his hidden room and I once again spied the doll Brahms had made of me, laying on his bed. It still wore my favorite coral dress and necklace. I looked away and felt the heat rising in my face when I spotted the used tissues next to it. His attraction was obvious. Brahms stopped to look back at me, and then to the doll. He seemed to hang his head in shame before continuing through the passage. I was never supposed to see it and I could only imagine his own embarrassment. We finally reached the secret door to my room. "Stay here." Brahms said in a sharp tone. "Where are you taking Malcolm?" I asked. Brahms turned towards me once more and replied "Downstairs. Stay here." With that, he reached towards my door and closed it behind him with his free arm. I collapsed on my bed and started to cry softly. A million thoughts were racing through my mind in a tangled mess. I tried to sort them, but I was unable to. The stress of today was too much. Cole lying dead, Brahms having stabbed him with a porcelain shard after Cole shattered the doll. To the fact that Brahms was even alive in the first place and not a spirit possessing a doll.

I got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. I gazed at myself in the mirror. I was a mess, dirt was all over my face and in my hair from being inside the wall and crawlspace. I needed a shower. So I went quickly into my room and brought my pajamas into the bathroom with me. I turned and locked the bathroom door and hoped Brahms wouldn't try and break it down when he returned. I stepped into the steaming shower and began to let the water wash away the grime. I quickly shampooed my hair and scrubbed the dust and dirt from myself.

I dried off as fast as possible and dressed into my pajamas. When I opened the bathroom door, Brahms stood at the end of my bed, staring through the mask that was still covered in filth and blood splatter. I noticed also his clothes were filthy and ragged. An oversized dark green cardigan over a once white undershirt with black trousers. How long since they've been washed? Hell, how long since Brahms himself took a bath or shower? "Brahms" I said. "It's time for bed, but first you need to take a shower. Do you have any clean pajamas?" "Brahms nodded and stepped through the passage way and returned a few moments later with neatly folded pajamas. I took them and placed them on the clothes rack in the bathroom and gave him a fresh towel.

As I turned to leave Brahms grabbed my arm and I saw the worry in his eyes. He was afraid I was going to leave while he was in the shower. "Don't worry Brahms, I'll be right outside the door. I won't leave you." I reassured him. "Promise?" Brahms asked, once again in a timid voice. "I promise." I replied. I slowly shut the door and heard the water turn on. I sat on my bed with a sigh and wondered what I was going to do. Should I still try and escape with Malcolm? Should I stay and hope that Brahms keeps his promise not to hurt me?

It was crazy to think of staying. Brahms was a mentally unstable murderer! He killed Cole in front of me, yes I asked doll Brahms for help, but that was when I thought he was a spirit! I never asked doll Brahms to kill him, I was just hoping Cole would get scared away for good. Then there was the little girl Malcolm told me Brahms had killed as a child and god knows who else over the years.

But then I thought, the only reason Brahms had killed Cole was because he heard Cole wanting to take me away. Brahms was scared I was going to leave him. A pang of sympathy shot through me because in my heart I knew Brahms was starved for attention and affection. I had promised his parents to care for him and indirectly, I had promised Brahms himself the very same. I was so deep in thought that I hadn't noticed the water stopped and Brahms standing in the bathroom doorway. He was dressed in a dark blue pajama set. His hair was damp and his curls were cascading around a now clean mask. "You look very nice Brahms, are you ready for bed?" He nodded and I stood up from the bed and started to walk into his childhood room. Brahms followed close behind and I turned down the covers.

Like a little boy, he laid down and I covered him with the sheet and blanket. His eyes were gazing into mine, they were a beautiful brown, with speckles of green. "Be a good boy and go right to sleep." I cooed. I started to turn away to walk back to my room when suddenly he grasped my arm and held it tight. I turned back to him. "Kiss." He spoke softly. Fearing what he would do if I refused, I stepped back over to the bedside and lowered myself to kiss the smooth porcelain cheek.

His large forceful hands grasped my shoulders and he turned his face so that my lips met the masks lips. He leaned up slightly, pressing the mask harder into my face, trying to deepen the kiss. I pulled away slightly and saw his eyes pierce into mine. "Greta, please stay." Brahms asked pleadingly. "No Brahms, you must be a big boy and go to sleep. I'll be in my room, you'll see me in the morning." His grip tightened and he pulled me down next to him. He enveloped me in his strong arms and pulled me close. I could feel his breath on my neck and feel my heartbeat quicken. "Greta, I don't want you to leave me." Brahms whispered in my ear. "I promised I wouldn't leave you Brahms." I replied. His hold on me never loosened as he began to snuggle into my neck. The porcelain felt cold against my skin. "Brahms?" I asked. Can you please take the mask off? It's making me cold." I stated. "No." Brahms replied. "Why?" I asked. "I don't want to scare you." Was his answer. "Brahms, I won't be scared-" "I said NO Greta!" Brahms snapped to me.

I tensed up and I believe Brahms felt it after he yelled. He caressed my cheek and breathed in the scent of my hair. "I'm sorry Greta, please don't be afraid. I didn't mean to yell at you" I laid there in silence, not wanting to provoke him further. I assumed he had a good reason for the mask, perhaps his face was damaged in the fire? Or by some other means? I didn't think of that possibility when I asked him to remove it. I resolved not to ask him again, when he was ready, he would remove it.

For now, there was nothing else I could do other than lay in the arms of a man driven by desperation and obsession. Sleep, would not come easy.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I was right, sleep had not come easy. I laid awake listening to the soft rhythmic breaths of Brahms. I was still held securely in his arms, like a child clings to a teddy bear. I gazed around the darkened room, illuminated only by the faintest glow of moonlight from the windows. I saw his toys, music boxes and trinkets of his youth. I barely paid them any attention before, but since sleep was so elusive, it gave me something to do. I was exhausted of repeating the days events over and over in my head. I was no closer now to finding a solution than I was earlier.

I had decided though that I wouldn't leave Brahms, though I had every reason to. He was a broken boy, that grew into a broken man. Never knowing love or affection, except from his parents, and I don't believe they offered him much. He killed Cole only to protect me, I thought. He did try to scare him with the dead rats and the message written in blood. Perhaps if Cole left then and hadn't smashed the doll and tried to take me away. I would still be ignorant to Brahms being alive. Cole's actions forced Brahms to reveal himself, perhaps before he was ready? No matter now, I was glad that Cole was dead. He would never haunt my steps or my dreams again. I quickly pushed these thoughts from my mind and tried to once again close my eyes and try to sleep.

Laying on my right side, I felt the urge to turn over. Though, I dared not try to lift his arm off me, in case that woke him. I slowly started turning on my back. When that was done, I gazed over to him. Expecting to see his eyes closed in sleep. They were open and staring right at me. "Greta?" Brahms whispered to me. "Shh, go back to sleep Brahms, I was just turning over." I whispered back. Brahms lifted the arm he had underneath me to pull me to his chest.

My head found the perfect spot between his chest and arm, and I briefly remembered how good it felt to lay with a man this way. I felt the coldness of the porcelain mask and the tickle of his beard that was peeking from under the mask on my forehead. "My Greta." Brahms softly said as he stroked my hair. I smiled and my heart quickened when he said that. Yes, I suppose I was "his Greta" now. I was the moment I stepped through the door, though I hadn't known it yet. I laid my arm on his chest and moved my fingers underneath a gap in his pajama jacket. I felt him inhale sharply as I twirled tiny circles in his chest hair. I smiled as I remembered I never used to like men with hairy chests when I was younger. I guess taste really does change with age. Brahms lowered his arm from my hair and started caressing my arm.

I lifted my head to look at him and at that moment he lowered his masked face to mine for another kiss. How I wanted to feel his own lips pressed against mine, our tongues intertwining and dancing. In time, I thought. He's not ready to show me his face yet, and I don't want to push the issue and make him angry like before. Brahms suddenly turned and was laying over me. I could feel his hardness pressing against my outer thigh. My mouth was beginning to hurt from the porcelain being smashed against me. I imagine Brahms wasn't enjoying it much either. "Close your eyes." Brahms growled in a dominate voice. I did as I was told and shut them tight. I felt his cheek graze mine and his hot breath dance across my face. He left small, soft kisses over both my cheeks before he crashed his lips into mine. He has pouring his soul and claiming me with his deep, rough kiss. Hard to believe I was only imagining this a few moments ago and now it was reality. He brushed his tongue against my bottom lip, demanding entrance into my mouth.

I submitted and he dragged his tongue over mine. At that moment I seized his tongue and began to gently suck on it. A low growl of pleasure arose from his throat and his fingers dug into my hip. He pressed his hardness into my thigh and began to thrust gently. I let go of his tongue and he broke away from my lips, only to bury his head into my neck. Leaving a trail of fervent kisses and licks. His hands roamed my body, with an eagerness I had never felt before. The sensation only heightened by the fact that my eyes were still tightly shut.

His hand rested over my clothed breast, he gently squeezed, and I let a soft moan escape my lips. He groaned in response and slid on top of me fully, my legs parting automatically to accommodate him. My hands immediately rushed to unbutton his shirt. I wanted to feel his chest, feel his skin on mine. I opened his shirt and let my hands roam his broad chest. I heard him hiss once more at my touch. A new sensation for him.

"Greta, look at me." Brahms breathed as he leaned in to capture my lips once more. I hesitated a moment, not knowing if he had replaced his mask or not. "Look at me!" Brahms growled. My eyes flew open and I was greeted by the expressionless porcelain façade. I looked into Brahms eyes, his gaze was intense. I felt he was staring through me, into my very soul. "You are so beautiful, my Greta. You are mine, you belong to me!" Brahms exclaims possessively. "Yes, Brahms." I exhale in reply. Passion still clouding my mind.

"Say it, Greta! Say you belong to me!" Brahms demands. "I belong you to Brahms, no other." I answer, my voice becoming laced with anxiety. In that moment, Brahms seized the fabric of my top and ripped it open, exposing my breasts to him. Hardly for the first time, as I know he'd been leering at me through the walls. I see his hungry gaze devouring my exposed flesh. I feel myself blushing under such a gaze. All of Brahms desires that had long since been hidden away in the depths of his psyche, were begging to be unleashed. He was no longer a timid child, no longer a boy, but a man.

He would unleash his unbridled passion on me, claim my body for his own. Possess me with his touch, own me with his kiss. I know I should be afraid, should shrink away from his touch. But I cannot. For he has awakened a yearning within me, a burning desire to be wholly loved, wanted and adored. "Close your eyes!" Brahms commands. I comply immediately and feel him flick his hot tongue over my plump nipple, while he massages my other breast with his hands. His hands felt incredible against my skin. Rough and calloused, but still possessed some gentleness. I let another moan escape my lips. I ran my hands over his smooth back and I gently dug my nails into his soft skin. With a masculine groan, he sank his teeth into my tender flesh. I gasped and dug my nails deeper into his back. I suddenly felt his weight lift off me, and with a forceful tug. He removed my bottoms. The chill air hit the exposed flesh, making me shudder slightly. "My Greta." Brahms breathed.

He lowered his face to my navel and began slowly sliding his tongue ever downward. His hot tongue traced my outer folds, which were slick with anticipation. With one long stroke, he lapped up my passion. My back arched, my fingers entwined in his thick curly hair. " Oh, Brahms!" I exclaim. He grabs my hips and holds me in place. His tongue penetrating ever deeper. His strong hands still exploring every part of my tender flesh. My moans became erratic as I neared my climax. With a final flick of his wet tongue, my body tensed and I cried out his name.

I pull him back up to me and I kiss his mouth, my juices fresh on his lips. I kiss him deeply, as I reach down to release his manhood. It is slick with his own anticipation, his desire for me. Brahms inhales sharply as my hand glides over his moist skin. "Brahms, please…make love to me." He kisses me roughly and I position him outside my entrance. With a roll of his hips, Brahms is inside me. I gasp at his size and feel myself stretching to accept him. He buries himself completely inside and pauses. I thought he had reached his climax, and was flattered to think I felt that good to him. He bit my neck gently as he started slowly thrusting. I raised my hips to meet each thrust and gripped his back tighter. My nails furiously digging deeper into his skin, I was sure I was leaving marks. He growled my name, which electrified me even more. I felt the sweat building on his chest, as he quickened his pace. I wrapped my legs around his hips to pull him even deeper inside. I wanted to feel every inch of him.

"Brahms!" I moaned, before he reclaimed my lips. He slowed his thrusting, knowing he was close to his own peak. "Greta" He groaned loudly and with a shudder, I felt his manhood pulsate and his seed fill me. He collapsed on my chest, trying to catch his breath, as I was trying to catch mine. He slowly rolled off to the side, pulling me with him. I placed my head back on his chest. I could hear his heartbeat, pounding strongly. Now beginning to slow.

"Greta, look at me." Brahms says. I raise my head to meet his gaze. His eyes burning with desire still. "Was I a good boy?" He asks. "Yes Brahms, a very good boy." I could feel his smile under the porcelain. I laid my head once again upon his chest. Our heartbeats and breathing in perfect sync. Sleep finally came easy this time.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I awakened to the first rays of sunshine peering through the window. I turn and see that Brahms is no longer in bed with me, only his scent remains. My thoughts immediately turn to Malcolm. Was he still alive? What has Brahms done with him? I threw the covers off myself, the chill morning air hit my exposed flesh and goose bumps suddenly arose. My whole body was sore and stiff, from the previous night.

I decided to take a quick shower before going downstairs. I silently walked across the hall, back to my room. The sheet from Brahms's bed covering my nakedness. As I entered the bathroom, I caught sight of myself in the mirror, it was a shocking sight. Brahms's passion and hunger for my body was evident in the form of tiny purple bruises covering my neck. I could just barely make out teeth marks on by right breast. Fingertip bruises graced my arms. Smiling at the memory, I turned the shower on and began scrubbing my skin. I closed my eyes as the hot water washed over me as I contemplated what today would bring.

I only hoped Malcolm was alright, and that Brahms had not done anything further to harm him. I quickly dried off and dressed in a grey turtleneck sweater to cover the bruises. I threw my hair into a ponytail and stepped cautiously into the passageway. I listened for voices or footsteps, but heard none. My heartbeat quickened as I descended the steps slowly, not knowing what I would find down there. I had forgotten about Cole's body until now, would it still be there? His lifeless eyes gazing into mine? I entered the den and saw the gaping hole in the wall where Brahms had appeared. I glanced down at the floor, but Cole's body was no longer there. Nor were the remains of the doll Cole had so ruthlessly shattered.

I quickly scanned the rest of the room. No sign of Malcolm either. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee drew me into the kitchen where I found a single carnation left on the table. No doubt, left by Brahms. I smiled slightly at the sweet gesture. I once again listened for any sounds, but there was only silence. I looked out the window and saw Malcolm's car. At least he's still here, I thought. But where? I was torn whether to call out for Brahms or let him appear on his own. Weighing the options, I decided the best thing was to get breakfast started. Perhaps the smell would draw Brahms out from his hiding place.

Soon, the smell of frying bacon and eggs was wafting through the kitchen. I placed two plates on the table, along with some toast and jam. The Carnation was resting on the table in a small vase I had found in the kitchen. As I turned to walk back into the kitchen to fetch my coffee and juice, Brahms had suddenly appeared in the doorway. I noticed he was dressed in a clean pair of brown trousers and white shirt. His hair was still damp and forming small ringlets around the clean mask. "Good morning Brahms, you look very handsome this morning." I noticed his eyes sparkle and the skin around his eyes lifting. He was smiling. "Thank you, Greta." Brahms said softly, his voice was teetering on that of a child, with a hint of masculinity. "Are you hungry?" I asked. Brahms nodded his head slowly.

As I started to walk past him towards the kitchen, I reached out to touch his arm. I stopped and turned to look up into his eyes. "Thank you for the flower, Brahms. It's beautiful." I said softly with a smile. "Not as beautiful as you. " Brahms replied. I leaned up to kiss the porcelain cheek of the mask. "Go sit at the table, I'm going to bring the coffee and juice."

Brahms was seated at the head of the table when I returned. I placed a glass of orange juice next to his plate, which remained untouched. "Brahms, I'm going to eat at the kitchen table. Let me know when you're finished."

Once again, Brahms nodded slowly. I picked up my plate and coffee mug and went into the kitchen. I didn't have much of an appetite, so I sipped on my coffee. A few minutes later, he came into the kitchen with his empty plate. "Was it good? " I asked. "Yes." He replied sheepishly. I stood from the table and walked over to where he was standing. "Brahms, you don't have to be shy." He didn't say anything, only stood with his head cast down.

I didn't want to push him too much, everything was still so new to him. As I bent over to put the plate in the sink, the collar of my sweater came down and revealed one of the bruises. Instantly, Brahms pulled me to him. I was startled at first, not knowing what he was going to do. However I didn't pull away, lest that make him angry. My eyes shot up to his, but I saw no anger, only concern. He gently peeled down my collar more to inspect my neck. He gasped softly at the sight and I noticed his eyes beginning to water. "I'm so sorry Greta. I didn't mean to hurt you." His voice cracking. "I would never hurt you." He added.

My heart ached at the fact he was so concerned about me. I touched his chest and brought my other hand up to the side of the mask. I gently turned his head towards mine and gazed deeply into his eyes. "I know you wouldn't hurt me Brahms, and you didn't. " I said. Brahms lowered his head towards mine and placed the porcelain lips against my own. A small, delicate kiss. I rested my hands against his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken. He lowered his head to my shoulder, and wrapped his arms around my waist. He pulled me ever closer and I could feel his heartbeat quicken and a familiar hardness press against my thigh. He was eager to relive the passion of the night before. His hands trailed from the small of my back to the supple curve of my bottom. "Brahms." I breathed as I pulled away slightly. "Hmm?" was his reply. "Let's finish cleaning up first, we still have chores to finish. "

He looked into my eyes with a fierceness, like I had just rejected him. His grip tightened to an almost painful level. "The chores can wait." Brahms said in a low, gruff tone. "I need you, my beautiful Greta." His voice losing a bit of the sharpness. He took a hold of my wrist and started to lead me out of the kitchen. As we approached the stairs, I heard a voice call my name. I stopped suddenly, causing Brahms to lose his grip on my wrist. He turned sharply towards me, as if he expected me to run. "Brahms, where is Malcolm?" I asked. "Hidden." He replied darkly. "Brahms." I said softly as I stepped closer to him. "Malcolm's hurt, and if he doesn't go to a doctor soon, he could die." I explained.

"He's not leaving this house, Greta. He wants to take you away from me!" His tone rising and becoming agitated. "I heard him always begging to take you into town. To take you away from me. He only wants you for himself!" Brahms was nearly yelling. I could only stare as he continued. " Let's not forget the night you almost ran away from me Greta. _He_ was insisting you run! But I won't let him take you away from me! You're mine, Greta! Only mine!" Brahms had a panic to his voice as he spoke the last words.

"But I didn't leave, did I?" I stated. " I promised you I wouldn't leave, even before I knew you were real. I made that promise to a doll which I believed held a little boy's spirit. When you emerged from that wall, I was terrified, and Malcolm only thought to protect me. He is not your enemy, but he IS my friend." My voice was beginning to take a sharp tone as I continued to speak. Brahms was standing still before me, his eyes fixed on my own. "I don't want him to die, Brahms. You know Malcolm would never hurt me and he's not going to take me away from you. If you won't let him leave, at least let me check on him and bring him some food." I said plainly.

Brahms said nothing, at first. Only continued to stare. "Brahms? ' I asked. "Fine, Greta. I'll let you check on him, but I will be there with you." Brahms said. "That's fine. Thank you Brahms, this is very good of you." He lowered his head slightly and nodded. I turned to walk back into the kitchen, gathering food to bring to Malcolm. After a few minutes, I emerged with a tray of sandwiches both peanut butter and jelly and meat and cheese. Brahms was still waiting for me at the base of the stairs where I had left him. "Let's bring this to Malcolm. Show me where you've hidden him." I said. Brahms turned and began walking into the den where he emerged. He stepped into the hole first and I followed right behind.

The familiar scent of damp and mold entering my nostrils once more as we descended into the basement.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Brahms and I walked in silence through the passageways . He would take the food tray from me as I descended down the makeshift ladders leading deeper into the bowels of the manor. I thought Brahms might be keeping Malcolm in his secret bedroom. Instead, Brahms led me further down the dark path until we entered an old boiler room. In the corner, I saw Malcolm. He was laying upon a old, ratty blanket, a shackle around his ankle attached to a pipe on the wall. Dried blood still clung to his face, his hair was a matted. I took the food tray from Brahms and I walked slowly over to Malcolm's form. I placed the tray next to him and kneeled on the dirty floor.

"Malcolm?" I called softly. Malcolm stirred and opened his eyes slowly, as if in a daze. "Greta? Is that you?" "Yes." I replied. "Are you alright? Where's Brahms?" Malcolm asked worryingly. "I'm fine Malcolm, Brahms is here." I replied. Malcolm turned his head and saw Brahms looming in the doorway of the room. Brahms remained silent, only staring at Malcolm. Brahms was breathing heavily, clearly he didn't like me near Malcolm. Turning from Brahms, I looked into Malcolm's eyes. "How are you feeling?" I asked Malcolm.

"My head hurts a lot, but luckily I'm not bleeding anymore. I've been worried about you." Malcolm said softly. Brahms let out a snarl at Malcolm's words. Malcolm shot a look of alarm at Brahms. Wanting to diffuse the tension, I pulled the food tray closer and lifted the water glass and handed it to Malcolm. "Here, drink this." I said. Malcolm took the glass and drank swiftly, not stopping to even catch his breath. "Thank you, Greta." Malcolm said. "You're welcome." I replied. Malcolm turned his head towards Brahms and stared into the expressionless porcelain façade. "How long are you going to keep us prisoner?" Malcolm asked Brahms with a venomous tone.

Brahms's chest began heaving once more and he took two steps towards Malcolm with his fists clenched at his sides. I stood and out my hand up and called to Brahms. "Brahms, please don't hurt him." I asked pleadingly. "Brahms stopped and locked his eyes onto my own. I broke the stare and looked down to Malcolm. "I am not a prisoner here, Malcolm. I want to stay here with Brahms." I replied flatly. Malcolm looked at me with a shocked expression. "You don't mean that Greta…You can't mean that." Malcolm replied softly. "I'm sorry if you can't understand my choice. I said as I walked slowly and stood next to Brahms. Malcolm's expression darkened and his voice became agitated. "I don't believe this Greta! He's poisoned your mind! How can you choose him? How can you possibly want to stay in this house?" Malcolm asked in alarm.

Brahms put him arm around my waist and pulled me close to him. I gazed at Malcolm, his head was in his hands and he was grasping his hair. "Malcolm, I've made my choice. Brahms and I need each other and I'm not going to leave him." I said. "Then what happens to me? Am I going to stay here until I die? Or is he going to kill me?" Malcolm asked, not bothering to lift his head. Before I could answer, Brahms tightened his grip around me. "Greta, that's enough for today." Brahms stated. His voice still retaining the agitation.

Brahms turned and gently pulled me towards the door. I glanced back at Malcolm once more. He didn't meet my eyes, only stared at the floor in despair. I took Brahms's hand in my own and let him lead me back through the dark, winding corridors. When we finally emerged from the wall passage, we were not back in the den, but in my bedroom. Closing the hidden door behind him, he wrapped his arms around me and rested his head on my shoulder.

He breathed in the scent of my hair. I turned to face him and gaze into his alluring chocolate eyes. The mask concealed the rest of his features. He only stared down at me with such intensity, my heartbeat began to quicken. He pulled me close, I felt the heat radiating from his body. "Greta…" Brahms whispered. "Hmm?" Was all I could muster out. "I want you Greta...Now." Brahms commanded. As he started to push me towards the bed. I completely forgot Malcolm, as my hands went to his brace straps and I pulled them from his shoulders. My hands moved slowly from his muscled chest down to his bulging trousers. He whimpered softly as I gently squeezed his hardness. Instinctively, I gazed up to kiss him, but stopped as I remembered the mask. He reach up hesitantly to remove it.

"Brahms... Please, kiss me…" I whispered as I nuzzled into his neck. He tore the mask from his face and tossed it unceremoniously onto the bed. He lifted my chin and our lips crashed together. His tongue seeking entrance into my mouth. I hungrily complied and admitted him entrance. Brahms broke the kiss long enough to lift my sweater off. My hands flew once again to his trousers. I undid the button and zipper and pulled them off his hips. They fell the rest of the way. He stepped out of them as he pushed me completely on the bed.

He reached lower to remove mine, as he continued applying passionate kisses to my neck and décolletage. "Pretty Greta…" Brahms sighed. His lips trailing further down to my soft mounds. His tongue swirled around my pink peaks and he began to suck gently. I arched my back and moaned his name. The latter exciting him into emitting a low growl as he continued to suck. He leaned back and with a forceful tug, he removed my trousers and panties. I was completely exposed, and he gazed at my flesh hungrily, as a predator gazes at their next meal.

"Beautiful Greta. MY Greta." Brahms reaffirmed. "Yes…only yours." I breathed as his tongue glided over my folds, slick with arousal. I grabbed his hair as his tongue probed deeper into my searing flesh. My heavy pants turned into moans as his tongue swirled around my pearl. "Oh Brahms! … I'm coming!" I scream. My back lifted off the bed as the rest of my body shuddered in ecstasy. Brahms began to slowly crawl over me. Lifting his shirt over his head, exposing his luscious chest covered in thick hair. He took my pink nipple between his lips, before he plunged his tongue into my eager mouth once more. I tasted my arousal upon his plump lips.

As he positioned himself at my entrance , I pushed him aside and threw my leg over him. He was startled and a wave of anger flashed in his eyes, he thought I was rejecting him. I quickly leaned down to kiss him as I lowered myself onto his throbbing cock. He growled into my mouth as I began to rock back and forth. My hips rising slowly, with a steady pace. His hands grabbed my ass and he squeezed. I broke the kiss to lean back and grind harder.

Brahms clenched his teeth and suppressed another growl, like a purring tiger. "Mhmmm Brahms…your cock feels so good." I began to grind harder as his hands traveled to my hips. He held me in place, while he slammed into me from below. I threw my head back as I let out another scream. My walls began to tighten around his thick cock. Sweat glistened on his chest. "Brahms! God, YES! DON"T STOP!"

He furiously pumped me on his cock as another orgasm crashed over me. Brahms reached up and wrapped one hand around my neck, as I dragged my nails over his chest. He pulled me down and kissed me with a volcanic intensity. Just then, I felt his cock spasm within me and a gush of hot liquid spilled into my core. I ceased rocking and let him ride his own orgasm to completion. With another gentle kiss, I slid off Brahms and laid at his side. Our hearts and breath still racing, as he pulled me closer into his toned arms. Life, for the moment, seemed perfect.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 _*Author's note: I want to say thank you to my readers. I apologize for not updating in forever, but life got in the way. I'm humbled that my little fic has made it into some of your favorites list_. *

Malcolm sat on the damp floor, his back pressed against the wall. His fists clentched as the sound of Greta's moans and screams echoed through the house. Malcom's blood boiled and he felt sick at the thought of Greta giving herself to that lunatic. "No, this can't be true. Greta's just playing along to save herself and me. She can't possibly want someone like him." Malcolm whispered aloud to himself. Trying desperatly to forget her words earlier. "I have to get the fuck out of here. I have to get Greta out of here." Malcolm declared.

We laid together for a while after our passionate session. Both of us clinging to each other as our heartbeats slowed to a normal pace. Brahms was stroking my hair, as my fingers explored the muscles of his abdomen. "Brahms?" I called softly. "Yes, my pretty Greta?" Was his reply. "I'm going to take a quick shower and then why don't we have tea on the balcony?" It was late afternoon and I still had some time before I had to get started making dinner. "I don't want to go outside." Brahms stated flatly. "Alright, we don't have to go outside, we'll sit in the den and listen to some records. Does that sound better?" I asked.

"Yes, much better." Brahms replied. I still didn't feel comfortable pushing Brahms to do things he didn't want to. His temper was too unpredictable. Slowly, I will get him to step outside his own box. In time, but not yet. I arose from the bed and grabbed my robe off the chair in my room. I glanced at Brahms, who was watching me with interest. I smiled coyly and slipped out of the room. The hot shower relaxed me, the water washing away my tension. Though, my mind drifted back to Malcolm. What was I going to do about him?

Such an impossible situation it seemed. I care about him and don't want Brahms to kill him. But if he leaves, he'll expose Brahms. I can't let that happen either. I sighed heavily as I turned the water off. I dressed quickly and left the bathroom. As I made my way back to my bedroom, I heard music playing from downstairs. I smiled and went to meet Brahms in the den, deciding to forgo making the tea. Brahms was standing with his back to the entrance of the room, in front of the record player. He had selected a waltz. I slowly walked towards him and he turned to me. I was again, greeted with the expressionless porcelain mask. He extended his hand to me and as I took it, he pulled me closer to him. He put his arm around my waist and began to move with the music. I followed his lead, which was a bit clumsy and soon we were slowly dancing together. "Where did you learn to dance, Brahms?" I asked. "My parents." Brahms replied flatly. "I used to watch them dance through the walls." His voice barely a whisper. "I remember asking my mother to teach me. I wanted her to hold me again. Instead, she danced with that doll. She didn't want to touch me." His voice was so pained. He tightened his grip around me and rested his forehead on my shoulder.

"Oh Brahms, I am so sorry." I said as I stroked the back of his head lovingly. "It doesn't matter anymore Greta. She's gone and you're here with me now. Now and forever, right?" Brahms asked as he lifted his head to look into my eyes. "Yes Brahms, that's right." I reached up slowly and put my hands on his cheeks. I slid the mask off gently and placed it on the small desk. His cheeks were tear stained, but he was so handsome. "You don't need to wear this anymore, Brahms. " I told him. "It's just us, and I always want to see your handsome face." I said as Brahms look away sheepishly. "If that's what you prefer, my Greta." Brahms replied. His voice sounded different when it was not muffled by the mask, so deep and rich.

I lifted my hand to stroke his cheek as he lowered his lips to mine. His tongue gently seeking entrance into my mouth. I parted my lips and let him deepen our kiss. Brahms broke the kiss first and lifted my chin to meet his gaze. "I love you, Greta." I stood there in shock, my eyes never leaving his. "I love you too, Brahms." I whispered back. Too afraid to give any other reply. He smiled broadly and hugged me tightly to him. I care for Brahms deeply, but is it love? We stood that way until the chime of the grandfather clock snapped us out of our trance. I gazed up and Brahms and spoke, "Time for me to get dinner started. Would you like to help?" A soft "Yes." Was all his reply. We made our way to the kitchen, and my mind once again wandered to Malcolm. I decided that I would ask Brahms to let Malcolm shower and get a change of clothes after dinner. Brahms sat at the kitchen table watching me intently while I cut vegetables for the stew. I handed Brahms a few small potatoes and asked him to peel them for me. I stood at the stove, cooking the onions and meat, when Brahms placed the peeled potatoes down on the counter next to me. He did a good job, only missing a few spots. "Thank you Brahms, you did great." I told him. He gave me a small grin and went to sit back down. I added the potatoes to the pot and went to sit at the table next to him.

He stared down at the table and I reached out to take his hand. "Brahms?" I asked. He lifted his eyes to mine and waited for me to speak again. "We need to talk about Malcolm." His eyes darkened and he released my hand. "Why?" He snapped at me. "Because he's sitting in his own filth in that disgusting basement, Brahms. He needs a shower and a change of clothes, not just food." Brahms didn't answer, just continued to glare at me. I reached out for his hand again. "Please, Brahms. Malcolm hasn't done anything wrong. It's not right to keep him chained up." Brahms suddenly stood and shouted, "He's NOT leaving this house Greta! He'll try to take you away!" His voice had that familiar panic.

"Brahms, please sit back down." I asked gently. He stared at me for a moment, before he relented and sat back at the head of the table. "I told you, I'm not leaving you Brahms. All I'm asking is for him to be allowed to clean himself properly for now. He deserves that much at least. Please, don't forget he wanted to protect me too." I said calmly. He stared at the table for a moment, before he spoke. "Fine Greta, If it makes you happy. I'll take him to get cleaned up." Brahms said with a hint of disdain. "Thank you Brahms, that is very good of you. Please, promise me you'll be nice to him." I replied. "I promise." Brahms whispered back. I smiled and stood up to check on dinner, as I was giving the stew a final stir. I asked Brahms to set the table. He stood without word to gather the bowls and silverware. I brought the serving dish full of hot stew to the table, along with the salad and bread. I ladled a big portion into his bowl and he began eating hurriedly. I smiled knowing that he rarely, if ever, got the chance to eat food when it was fresh. Having to sustain himself on reheated leftovers. I served myself and ate in silence. Occasionally glancing at Brahms enjoying himself. When we both were finished, Brahms brought the dishes to the sink.

I got the serving tray and began putting Malcolm's dinner together. "Brahms, let's take Malcolm his dinner." I said. Brahms walked next to me and took the tray from me. "I will take him his dinner, you stay here." Brahms said sternly. "But Brahms-" "I said stay here Greta!" Brahms nearly shouted. I stood silent as he turned as walked out of the kitchen. Not knowing what else to do, and not daring to follow Brahms. I began washing the dishes and putting the food away. "Please Brahms, be good to him." I whispered aloud.

Brahms made his way through the dusty passageways he knew by heart. He hated having Greta out of his sight, but he knew he had to start trusting her. As Brahms entered the room, he saw Malcolm laying on the floor, with his back to him. The smell in the room was terrible. Greta was right. "Malcolm, dinner." Brahms called out. Malcolm sat up quickly and turned to look at Brahms. Malcolm's eyes grew wide as he stared at Brahms's damaged face. Suddenly, Brahms remembered he had not replaced the mask after Greta removed it in the den. His blood began to run hot as Malcolm continued to stare. "Do not stare at me, Malcolm. Eat quickly. Then I'll take you to a shower." Brahms stated harshly. Malcolm gave Brahms a surprised look before he averted his eyes and pulled the tray closer. He was very hungry, so he ate as quickly as he could.

Malcolm was sorry that he couldn't take the time to savor every bite of Greta's delicious cooking. As soon as Malcolm sopped up the last bit of stew with the bread, Brahms walk over and grabbed the tray. "Stand up." Brahms commanded. Malcolm did as he was told and Brahms freed Malcolm's wrists from the chain. "Brahms, is Greta all right?" Malcolm asked. "Of course she is! I would never harm her! I love her and she loves me! Now move." Brahms snapped as he shoved Malcolm forward. Malcolm's heart sank deeper with every step, as Brahms directed him though the passageways. "This can't be. Brahms is lying. Greta couldn't love him." Malcolm thought.

Brahms led Malcolm to his hidden bedroom to retrieve some clean clothes. "Don't move." Brahms barked at Malcolm. Brahms quickly grabbed a clean shirt and a pair trousers and underwear from his dresser. Malcolm stood once more in the room that gave him the most chills. Upon the bed, was the crude doll that once had Greta's stolen dress on it. Brahms caught Malcolm staring. Brahms eyes darkened. "Let's go." Brahms said. As they were about to leave the room, Brahms also grabbed his bottle of shampoo and soap.

Soon, they emerged into a narrow hallway. Brahms led Malcolm to a small room with an attached bathroom. Most likely an old servants quarter. The room had a thin layer of dust, and a bed with a rolled up mattress, and no windows. Obviously unused for years. "Shower and change quickly" Brahms said as he shoved the clothes and soap into Malcolm's hands. Wordlessly, Malcolm complied and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He turned the water on and the pipes creaked and groaned. A brown liquid emerged from the faucet momentarily before turning clear. Quickly, Malcolm stepped in the tepid water. The shower felt heavenly as the filth washed off his body.

Malcolm began scrubbing and trying to think how he was going to get away from Brahms. He finished his shower and began to dress in the borrowed clothes. "Hurry up Malcolm!" Brahms shouted through the closed door. Malcolm finished dressing and opened the bathroom door. "Let's go." Brahms said as he grabbed Malcolm's upper arm to lead him through the door. "Thank you Brahms." Malcolm said. "You're welcome.' Brahms replied flatly. Malcolm stopped walking and turned to look at Brahms. He tried hard not to stare at the damaged side of Brahms's face. "Can I please see Greta? I need to make sure she's okay."

Brahms growled slightly at the request. "No. I told you she's fine." Brahms stated. "I know, but she's my friend and just want to see for myself." Brahms felt the anger rising up inside him. Why didn't Malcolm believe him? Why would Malcolm think he would hurt pretty Greta? Brahms felt the urge to hit Malcolm, he balled his fists at his sides. Then the promise he made to Greta flooded back into his mind. Brahms promised to be nice to Malcolm, and he didn't want to break his promise and make Greta sad. Brahms wanted to make Greta happy, and Greta would be happy seeing him be nice to Malcolm, like she asked.

"Come on Malcolm, I'll let you see Greta."


End file.
